


Types

by windstar127



Category: Takarazuka Revue RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windstar127/pseuds/windstar127
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Which sort of boyfriend would Osa prefer anyways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Types

The door opened while I was in the kitchen trying to clean up what was left of my last baking experiment. The cookbooks make it look so easy, but then again, they also assume you've had some practice cooking and not lived off of restaurant food, combini onigiri, and bento from fans for the last 18 years. The best I could say was that it wasn't the worst of my attempts. I glanced at the plate of crumbles pastry on the counter. At least some parts of the cake were edible this time. Barely. If you could tolerate the burnt bits. The pan had been soaking for three hours now, and I was still trying to scrape all the charred cake off. The rest of the kitchen was in better shape, mostly because somewhere along the way I learned to clean up as I cooked. Otherwise there was no using the kitchen for a week afterwards.

I had a good idea who just walked in. There was only one person who had the spare keys to my apartment and had the habit of walking in unannounced.

"Masa-chan?"

"In here."

"Trying to cook again, I see?" Asako walked into my kitchen and leaned against the door frame. It was an ongoing joke that she's the better cook. "What was it supposed to be this time?"

"Pound cake..." I pointed at the remains of the cake on the plate. "That's what I managed to salvage." Asako grinned and me and popped a small chunk of the cake into her mouth. A few crumbs landed on her shirt, and she absently brushed them off.

"Not too bad," she grinned impishly at me. "Could use a bit less charcoal though.

"Shut up, Asako."

"You like me anyways, Masa-chan," she shot me an impudent look.

"Some of the time, at least."

"Nice skirt, by the way," she looked me up and down and gestured at my clothes. Once, not that long ago, I would have been dressed in the same style as she, in a men's shirt and jeans. Now though, I wore a knee length turquoise skirt and matching heels.

"Director's orders," I muttered under my breath. "Something about learning to walk like a woman..." To her credit, Asako didn't snicker. Loudly enough for me to hear anyways. "It's not like I don't know how to walk in heels." I gave up on my battle with the cake pan and wiped my hands clean on the dishtowel. Asako never teased me like this unless she was looking for trouble or particular reaction from me.

"Of course, Masa-chan," Asako's eyes sparkled devilishly as she looked me up and down carefully and smirked. A spark of lightning flew between us. I narrowed my eyes slightly and glared at her, the same sort of look I used to use on stage. The smirk turned into a lopsided grin, but the slight widening of her eyes told me that I hadn't quite lost my touch.

"Like what you see?" I pivoted and spun around to face her, the flounces of my skirt twirling about me.

"Oh always," she laughed. "You look good in a dress."

"I'm glad you think so," I ruffled her hair affectionately. I still felt awkward in a skirt but not as much as I used too. It was nice to hear that she still found me attractive, even if I didn't look much like an otokoyaku these days. "Go sit down. I'll make some tea."

"Yes ma'am," Asako mimed a flippant salute at me and wandered off into my living room.

***

We curled up on the couch, nursing mugs of tea and talking of nothing in particular and everything in the world. I told her about the antics backstage on the Marguerite set. She mentioned something about making girls all but pass out when she flirted with them during the show. My rehearsal schedule was erratic and hectic enough that I still hadn't had time to see her, but I meant to before the end of the show run. What was the point of living in Tokyo if I couldn't go to the theatre to watch my friends? I was just about to ask her if she could still get me a ticket when she spoke first.

"Masa-chan, you never did answer them, you know," her soft husky voice purred in my ear.

"Answer who?" I blinked at the sudden non sequitur and set my mug of tea on the coffee table.

"Those reporters, at the public rehearsals," Asako grinned, but the light of her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Oh. Them," I shook my head ruefully. "I should have known they would ask something like that. I didn't know you'd watched that."

"Hey, I've learned how to record shows by now," Asako protested cheerfully, but then she turned serious. "I don't care how good you look in a skirt, but those two really need to keep their hands to themselves." There was no need to ask who 'those two' she referred to.

"We've done worse during interviews, Asako, if you remember," I reached out my hand to brush the tousled bangs from her best friend's face.

"Yes...but that was different."

"How so?"

"I'm allowed to tease you like that. They aren't." Asako looked far too cute when she was trying to come up with excuses.

"Is that it?" My question was greeted with a petulant silence. The seconds ticked by. Finally, the answer came, almost too low for me to hear.

"No...it's not like I'm being jealous or anything," Asako mumbled, "but I just don't like seeing you with anyone else..."

"Asako," I laughed softly, "that's called being jealous."

"...Maybe...so...were you ever going to answer that question?" she quickly changed the subject.

"Do you want the real answer?"

"Yes. Who is your 'type', Masa-chan? The confident German officer or the dashing young musician?" Her voice, normally cheerful and teasing, was laced with bitterness. Those words might be what she said out loud, but I knew it wasn't the real question. The real question, like what the reporters had been hinting at, was which of my costars I found more attractive.

"Neither."

"Masa-chan?" Asako gave me a slightly puzzled look, but there was a flicker of hope in her dark luminous eyes. I leaned forward until mere centimeters seperated our faces, and I could feel her breath warm against my cheek.

"Neither of them are my 'type', Asako," I gently cupped Asako's face with one hand and kissed her. Her lips were soft and yielding under mine. "My 'type' happens to be tall handsome otokoyaku who've know me since I was 16, performed beside me for years, and is one hell of a good kisser. But I can't really say that to the press, can I?"

Asako kissed me back, softly at first and then passionately, until we both forgot how to breath and finally broke apart. "No, I guess not." She pushed me back against the couch and pinned me down. I gasped with pleasure and surprise as I felt the solid warmth of her body against mine. Her eyes glittered dangerously and set my heart racing. "I guess I should take advantage of that, shouldn't I?"


End file.
